Lost
by Icewing5
Summary: Ace lost his memory and is trying to put the fragmented pieces of his life together while dealing with Blackbeard's sinister plans... Everyone else is just trying to make the world right again. Modern au.


**Disclaimer: I don't own One Piece.**

**Hello! Been a while and this child has been sitting in my computer for a bit. So... here he is to play. I do actually have a bit more written it made sense to cut it off here. So this is what you'll be getting first.**

**NOTE: Haruta is a girl. I know he's a boy but uh... when I wrote it then I thought Haruta was a girl. I just thought it be nice to have a girl on the team who isn't a nurse. Mm.**

**ALSO, if there is anything wrong from a medical viewpoint... I'm sorry. I'm not a doctor, no plans on being one and the Internet only does so much.**

**Also, this stuff is fictional, do not take it seriously.**

**Thanks. Enjoy.**

* * *

He jolts back into consciousness and it hits him like a slap to a face because his head spins and his ears ring. He's laying face-down on the floor, face partially touching a wall. His body hurts like he just underwent a really strenuous training exercise- and wonders why he would need to undergo a training exercise in the first place. The thought is pushed from his mind when he registers what he smells.

There's a strong stench of blood in the air, strong enough that he has to push down the urge to puke. It evokes a sense of panic however and he staggers to his feet, almost crashing back down when the world spins and his legs are stabbed with white hot pain as they threaten to give way. He catches himself against the wall and staggers onwards, eyes searching the ground. It's only when his gaze lands on a still body does he realize what he's been looking for. For some reason, he feels a need to go over and check on the person.

He pushes off against the wall, and collapses into the pool of blood that's been spread steadily out from under the man. Limbs shaking, from fear or exhaustion he doesn't know, he feels for a pulse. The man's skin is cold and clammy but there is still a pulse. Weak, slow but still there and something in him gives a sigh of relief.

The man's eyes somehow flicker open and he freezes, unsure of what to do.

"Ace…" the man breathes.

He stares into brown eyes that slip shut and he's left wondering who this Ace is. Then, he hears footsteps hurrying in his direction. There are loud voices calling for Thatch and the name causes images to flash behind his eyes- a man with a pompadour, a jolly smile and a chef's attire- which makes him reel, blinking rapidly in a effort to discern reality from the images. His gaze falls on the man before him and he realises that is the same man in the images he sees. Before anything else can occur to him, someone runs into the alley they're in and halts. In the dim light, he can't make out any features but the voice that speaks to him sounds strangely familiar.

"Ace? What are you-"the speaker cuts himself off. "Thatch."

The speaker raises his voice into a yell without ever looking away from him and he flinches at the volume.

"I FOUND THATCH! WHISKEY, WE NEED YOU URGENTLY!"

People follow the speaker into the alley and he lurches to his feet, tense and on edge.

"Oh my- Thatch!"

"Ace? What are you doing here?"

"Is that blood on his hands?"

The last sentence causes him to glance down involuntarily and he realises that, yes, his hands are slicked with blood.

"Ace, yoi," someone says and his head snaps up to find that the people have gotten closer since he wasn't looking. Someone has already made it to the man, Thatch's side. He backs away hurriedly until he trips over his own feet and bumps into the wall, all the while breathing heavily and only yelping with pain when he tripped. The person raises his hands in what seems to be a calming gesture. ""Relax, yoi. Whiskey, what's his condition?"

The person beside Thatch, a woman by the sound of it replies, voice sharp and brisk. "We need to get him back to the base. Now."

"Alright, Rakuyo's already bringing the van around," a deep voice tells them from the shadows.

"Ace, what happened?" Now he can hear the undercurrent of worry in the speaker's tone. It's cleverly masked, but for some reason, he knows what to listen for so he hears it loud and clear.

"We don't have time for this!" someone insists. "Rakuyo's already here!"

An engine sound punctuates the sentence and the speaker seems to make a decision because he starts to walk over to him. He panics.

Adrenaline charges through him and he darts away, ignoring the pain and spinning that accompanies the movement. People shout behind him, he doesn't care. He just wants to run away from these strange people. He instinctively charges to a link chain fence separating one alleyway from another, and pushes up off the ground, before his fingers clutch the fence and he scrambles over it. He falls heavily to the ground with something giving a loud crack, and he takes a moment to get back up, fighting through the pain and haziness that is swamping him.

"Shit, Marco!"

"I got it, yoi."

The name flashes more images through his mind- a tall man with a mop of blonde hair, half-lidded eyes and a lazy smirk- and something in him knows that person but still, fear outweighs the new knowledge so he keeps running. There is a flash of blue light then, something trills over his head and he looks up to see a giant flaming blue bird. His jaw drops.

The giant flaming blue bird lands in front of him, causing him to halt and it turns back into the man he saw in his memories.

"Ace, yoi," the man tries, approaching him and he thrusts his hands out in an effort to keep him away.

Fire explodes from his hands and he gasps, startled and panicked. There's fire spewing from his hands. _There's fire spewing from his __**hands**_.

It roils towards the man who doesn't even react as he faces the flames head-on. Instead, he lets them wash over him, blue flames flickering from his body and countering them.

"Ace," the man tries again and now there's frustration in his tone. "What is wrong with you?"

"Stay away," he manages to say hoarsely. "I don't- I can't-"

His flames are sputtering, dying out as exhaustion swamps him. Dark spots block his vision and for a second, he's dizzy and unaware. In that second, the man, Marco, his mind supplies, darts forward and then arms are around him. He struggles almost immediately, choking on his panic and Marco holds him tighter.

"Izo, now!"

Someone else appears before his blurry vision and then, there's something on his wrist. It drains him of energy almost immediately and he slumps into Marco's arms. He's barely aware of words being said over his head. The last he hears is Marco's voice.

"You're safe, Ace. Remember that."

-x-

Marco sighs; frustrated as he runs a hand through his mop of hair. They've been at it for _hours_. Haruta is all for arguing that maybe Thatch had an accident and Ace tried to help-

"It's a stab wound, Haruta," Curiel explains exasperatedly.

Izo is silent but he's fuming and Marco knows his brother well, it won't be long before-

"I'm going to the infirmary," Izo announces abruptly and gets up.

Thankfully, Jozu grabs his sleeve before he really has a chance to _go_ anywhere.

"You cannot beat the shit out of Ace for answers," Jozu rumbles, informing their irate brother. "He's not in any state for anything right now."

At that, the room falls eerily silent. Ace is the liveliest of their brothers, together with Thatch and Haruta, the three wreck havoc in the form of pranks. But to see Ace lying still and unconscious in the infirmary because he had tried to flee from them… well, it's something Marco never hoped to see.

"I don't care," Izo says, the only one seemingly unaffected by the statement. "Ace needs to get his shit together and explain what happened before-"

"Enough, yoi," Marco growls, fed up with everything. "Everyone, we'll meet back here tomorrow morning after I try to glean some information from Ace, _if he wakes_," he says warningly, looking at Izo who huffs and folds his arms. "Now, I'm sure you all have duties, so _go_."

It's an order from their first division commander which is why they file out, grumbling a little, and looking far too tense than normal but Marco can't do much for them now. Everything rides on Ace.

With another heavy sigh, he heads back to the infirmary where the nurses and Whiskey are working to treat both his brothers.

They've obviously finished, because Whiskey is cleaning up the area. Thatch lies pale and hooked up to dozens of machines, and Marco barely manages a glimpse at his brother before the curtain is pulled shut. Ace on the other hand is in the middle of the room, wary eyes watching him from all directions but Marco is just grateful that he's been tended to.

"Marco," Whiskey greets as she straightens up from where she had been leaning over to check on Ace. He nods in reply and she grins wryly, already knowing why he's here.

"Thatch only has a stab wound in his side, thankfully it missed his organs, but he lost a lot of blood before we got there so it will take time for him to heal up from that. Ace on the other hand…"

Her voice trails off as she grabs the clipboard that has been conveniently placed on Ace's bedside table and starts reading off it.

"Left ankle bone is broken, two cracked ribs, one broken rib, heavy bruising on the left side of his body, minor internal bleeding, bruising on throat and vocal chords, and finally, a really nasty concussion."

She finishes with a flourish that Marco knows she doesn't really mean and smiles politely at the first division commander.

"I'm going to kill him after all this is over," she informs Marco. "He was walking on a fractured ankle. That's why it broke."

Marco nods silently, still too stunned by the amount of injuries Ace accumulated. He finally decides to just pick on the one that stands out the most.

"Concussion right?" he double checks, just to make sure and when Whiskey nods, he takes a deep breath, steeling himself for answers. "How bad is it?"

"It's not severe to the point where the chances of him falling into a coma are high. But, his brain was rattled around in his skull quite a bit. He…" she hesitates here and he frowns, not understanding he hesitancy. "He might have memory loss."

He feels the floor drop under him the same time things click into place. Of course. That's why Ace ran, that's why no matter what they said to him he didn't believe it. That made sense.

"When will he wake up?" Marco asks, breathing deep to calm himself down.

"Not very soon, I'm guessing a day or two at most," she says and when Marco opens his mouth again, she hastens to add, "I was about to go tell Pops when you walked in."

"Right," Marco nods decisively. "I'll come with you. I've got some things to discuss with him."

Whiskey nods and turns to walk out of the door, but the machines they had connected Ace to starts to beep. Marco twists round, the "What's wrong?" about to slip from his lips when he hears Ace gasping in pain on the bed and sees the teen's eyes fly open. For a second, he can't believe it. Ace is awake? Then Whiskey rushes over, making a beeline for the machines he's hooked up to and fiddling with them. Nurses hurry to her aid, trying their best to hold Ace down as he thrashes in their grip.

"Commander!" Whiskey snaps and Marco blinks out of his stupor.

"Right!" he agrees, dashing over to help hold Ace down.

"Lemme' go!" Ace shouts, or tries to; it comes out as a rasp, struggling in their grip. His eyes are open but unseeing and Marco leans over to try to calm him.

"Ace, relax, it's us," he says, grunting when Ace lands a lucky hit.

"No!" Ace pants, eyes darting about. "Don't touch- you can't- Run!"

"Ace," Marco tries, leaning back to avoid a flailing arm. "Ace, you're safe. Calm down!"

"Don't- Stop it- you- you…" his voice trails off as Ace's body goes limp and his eyes slip shut.

Marco panics for a second, until Whiskey says, "Okay, you guys can step back now. I've injected some local anaesthesia into him. It should put him under for a while longer."

"Was he supposed to wake up this early?" Marco asks.

Whiskey gives him an exasperated look that has his regretting his words a second later.

"What do you think?" she asks scathingly before he offers her a sheepish look. She ignores him, turning to look at her staff instead. "Sakura, make sure he doesn't burn through the drugs too fast, if he shows any signs of starting to wake before he's supposed to, give him another shot."

"Got it," one of the nurses replies and she heads to the door, Marco following a step behind.

He glances at her grim face and sighs internally. This was going to be quite the talk.

-x-

He floats through blurred memories that don't make sense and a dull pain that comes and goes. Sometimes he hears hushed tones and murmured voices, but the words and meanings slip though his grasp like water and sand.

Waking takes effort and when he finally does make it; his world explodes into pain, pain and more pain. Soft whimpers escape him and there's someone by his side; it only takes a moment before the pain fades again to faint throb.

"Ace?" a voice asks. "Ace, I need you to open your eyes. Can you do it?"

Ace? He heard that name before, was that his?

"That's you, yoi," a different voice cut in through his thoughts. "You're Ace."

With that confirmed, he tentatively forces his eyes open. The room is dimly lit with the smell of medicines and the sounds of beeping machines. Two people are standing near him; one of them is almost hovering over him.

"Good," the person closest to him says, a small smile curving her lips. "At least you're now awake and coherent."

For a second, he's inclined to think that he doesn't know these people. But his eyes catch on familiar blonde hair and lazy lidded eyes and the name pops into his mind and unintentionally, into the room.

"Marco," he says croakily.

To his surprise, they both tense.

"You remember?" Marco asks, hope filling his voice.

"Remember?" he parrots.

Blue eyes scan his own before Marco relaxes, gaze falling back into its usual half-lidded position.

"No," he tells the lady who sighs, running a hand through her hair.

"Well, it did seem too easy," she murmurs. "But first things first…"

With that said, she reaches out and he unintentionally shrinks back into the bed, confusion and wariness instantly surfacing. She pauses, blinking for a second before her eyes light up in realisation.

"I'm Whiskey," she introduces. "A doctor; I'm here to help you get better."

She waits patiently for a moment before he realises he supposed to give some sort of confirmation that he heard her. Before he can nod, she speaks again, a sort of strange emotion in her eyes.

"Can I..?"

She gestures to him and still he hesitates.

"Ace, "she starts but this time, he interrupts.

"Yes."

She looks at him in the eyes, as if trying to search for something there.

"Are you sure? We don't have to do it this way-"

For some reason he feels the need to prove himself to these people so he says, "I'm sure."

"Alright then," she agrees, but he can still see the uncertainty in her eyes.

She reaches out again and he tenses but stays put.

"I want to check your concussion first," she tells him, hands moving to his back. "I need you to sit up. Squeeze my arm or Marco's arm if you start to feel any discomfort, okay?"

"Okay," he rasps and she frowns.

"I'll get you some ice chips too."

They slide their hands under him and slowly help him into an upright position. Halfway up, the room spins dizzily and he starts to feel nauseous. He grips an arm tightly and hears Marco's low voice before something is placed under his chin.

He pukes, emptying out whatever he had before a cloth wipes his mouth and he's gently leaned into someone's side. His eyes have slid shut at some point or another, but he doesn't want to keep them open anymore. The room blurs into a mesh of voices and sounds, and he can feel hands on his skin, gently running over and pressing certain parts. He whimpers when they run over an especially pain-sensitive part and a soothing voice apologizes. Everything goes pretty smoothly, up to the point when his head is lifted and a hand touches his throat.

He stills as a harsh voice snarls, "Don't think you're untouchable, Commander Ace."

Then his throat is being constricted and he's gasping for breath that isn't coming-

"Ace! Breathe!" someone orders.

He _can't_. Someone's strangling him- Someone he knows- Someone-

"Ace," a calm but tense tone breaks through. "I told you before, you're safe. Remember?"

Through whirling and spinning thoughts, he thinks, _Marco_. Marco wouldn't lie to him. Marco never lies to him. Marco… he trusts Marco, doesn't he?

His breathing returns in one go and it feels like a force struck his chest. The room; which had been greying begins to return as his sight clears and now he can see Marco and the doctor hovering beside him, both looking relieved as he stares at them with tired but lucid eyes.

"Okay, Ace, I know you're tired but I want to give you some ice chips before you sleep, okay?" Whiskey says.

This time, she doesn't wait for a nod. She grabs a cup on a bedside table and holds out a spoon of ice chips to him. Too dazed to do anything other than obey, he opens his mouth for her to spoon it in. She gets maybe three spoonfuls in before he feels himself tilting over sideways. Marco catches him before he can slump over and guides him to rest on his back.

"Go back to sleep, Ace. I promise you're safe."

-x-

"What was that?" Marco demands, as soon as Ace's breathing has evened out.

It was sudden and startling and Marco hadn't liked the way Ace had looked so panicked and… betrayed.

"He had a panic attack," Whiskey explains. Her tone is calm but her furrowed brow shows her anxiety. "Maybe he had a flashback of when he got this injury."

She gently brushes a hand over the hand-shaped bruise on Ace's neck and Marco shudders. Even without Whiskey telling him, he knows that there had to be an exceptional amount of force behind that grip to leave a bruise like that.

"Do you think he at least remembers his attacker, yoi?"

Whiskey glances up at him as she begins tidying away ointments and bandages.

"I honestly have no clue, Commander. Now, if you're done, Thatch's bandages need changing too," she says as her gaze flickers to the door and he gets the hint.

He leaves, still thinking as he heads to his father's office. His father is looking over reports as he comes in, but a warm smile still grows under his mustache when he spies his eldest child knocking on his door.

"Marco," he greets, putting the papers down.

"Hey, Pops," Marco replies as he sits in the chair his father indicates.

Whitebeard frowns when he sees the imminent exhaustion lining his eldest child's face. He knows it's been stressful and truth be told, he hasn't been getting much sleep himself. Marco is taking it equally hard. He has always been close to both Thatch and Ace and to see the both of them like that… Whitebeard sighs. They all need a break.

"How're Ace and Thatch?" he asks quietly.

"Getting better. Ace hasn't been able to recall much of anything though, yoi."

Whitebeard nods understandingly. "Give him time."

Marco nods, but doesn't say anything else. Whitebeard raises an eyebrow.

"Something else, son?" he prompts, looking curiously at the blonde.

Marco sighs and leans back into the chair.

"I don't really know. Just… something doesn't add up here, yoi," he admits. "There are several possibilities to this. Either Ace attacked Thatch and got hurt in the process, which is looking more and more unlikely, given the fact that Thatch is mostly unharmed with only a stab wound while Ace is heavily injured. Or there was a third party; which makes more sense since Thatch hardly ever attacks with his hands."

"Well, the most we can do right now is either wait for Ace to regain his memories, or for Thatch to wake up," Whitebeard said.

"I know, Pops," Marco groaned. "I've just never known waiting to be so… annoying, yoi,"

"You should get some rest while waiting then, son," Whitebeard chuckles.

"Maybe," Marco shrugs, non-committed.

Whitebeard chuckles again and Marco gives in.

"Alright, one hour," he says reluctantly.

"Of course, son," Whitebeard tells him agreeably although the twinkle in his eye tells Marco he hopes it would be two.

-x-

Coarse, hearty laughs fill his dreams along with a darkness that consumes everything. He can't move in it; it is like smoke which smothers everything yet is thick like a tar and solid enough to halt his movements.

Then it is followed by blood. It fills his nose and mouth, choking him as the copper tang all but drowns him in a sticky, wet embrace. He fights against the binds which are holding him down, only for Marco's voice to break through.

"Ace! Stop struggling!"

The other man sounds exasperated and worried. With an unexplained urgency, Ace forces his eyes open and is immediately assaulted by coughs which wrack his body with pain. His hand flies to his mouth in an attempt to somehow halt the coughs but all it does is get blood on his fingers.

"That's it, get it all out," Whiskey urges, coming back over to him, a cup of water and a bucket occupying both hands.

Marco is seated beside him, bodily supporting him in an upright position as he literally spits out blood. He isn't sure… but he thinks that's a bad thing.

"What-?" he asks hoarsely before he is cut off by another bout of coughs.

"You bit your tongue in your sleep," Marco explains, and oh… that's why there's blood.

"You were going to choke on your blood so I had Marco sit you up to help you get the blood out," Whiskey continues, unfazed as she waits for him to stop coughing. "Here."

The cup of water is offered and he takes it gingerly, ignoring the way his hand shakes. He looks questioningly at Whiskey who holds out the bucket for him.

"Gargle and spit," she instructs.

Gratefully, he takes a swig of water. He doesn't think he can stand the taste of blood in his mouth any longer than he has to. He rinses his mouth several times, and then hands the cup back to Whiskey. It's bloodied and sticky but she takes it without any remarks. Before he can apologise however, she's striding away.

"I have to go get something. Marco, can you get the towels in the bathroom to wipe Ace's hands?" she calls back over her shoulder.

"No problem, yoi," the man in question says as she leaves the room and then he rolls his eyes.

"Whiskey's very much like a one-man army when it comes to patients in her infirmary," Marco remarks, though not unkindly. Then cerulean blue orbs glance at him and Marco must see something there because he frowns.

"You rest for a bit, yoi," Marco says as he is gently laid back down. "I'll be right back."

He doesn't complain. The world was starting to get dizzy and hard to focus on and lying on his back makes it much better, thank you very much. His eyes drift shut, although he doesn't fall back to sleep. He's tired, sure but he has a feeling Whiskey wants him awake and it's the least he can do for the doctor.

The door clicks open again and he opens an eye, wondering if Whiskey might see that he's tired and not do… whatever she is going to do. Instead, a giant of a man fills the doorway. A big grin grows on his face when he sees Ace and already he feels the stirring of uneasiness in his gut, even if he isn't sure why.

The man crosses the room to stand before him and he scrambles to push himself to a sitting position, ignoring the way the world spins and greys. There's some long forgotten instinct telling him to be on guard around this man and every move he makes screams 'danger'.

"Nice to see you up and about, Commander Ace."

His eyes widen and all aches and pains are forgotten as _that_ voice in _that_ tone, wash over his senses. He reacts.

Fire shoots from his hands at the man. It hits his target dead on in the belly and the man shouts, dropping to the ground and rolling to kill the flames. He takes the given opportunity to scramble from his bed and maybe make it to the door and _safety_, away from this man but he misjudges something because the next thing he knows, his foot gets caught in the blanket and he crashes painfully to the floor. The fall knocks the wind out of him.

Dazed, he lies there, unable to do more than breathe. The man gets up, the fire put out and he glares down at Ace, brown eyes darkening.

"You have a lot of nerve, Commander Ace," he growls.

He doesn't think, just acts. He throws a flaming fist in his direction, hoarsely shouting, "Hiken!" as he does and the man's eyes widen as Ace feels satisfaction. But before the attack can connect, blue flames block the way, accepting the attack dead on. Then Marco stands before him, looking furious.

"Ace what the hell do you think you're doing!?" he shouts.

"I swear, I didn't tell anyone, Commander Ace!" the man behinds Marco shouts suddenly, looking frightened and panicked.

Marco's gaze widens as he looks at the man behind him for confirmation; then transfers his gaze back to Ace. The look Marco gives him is pain-filled and disbelieving.

"You-" Marco starts and stops, at a loss for words.

Behind him, Ace sees the brown-skinned man grin, and lift his hand-

"NO!" he shouts, finding strength to throw himself at the man.

They collide and roll, crashing into things. All Ace can think about is how this man needs to _die_ before he can hurt any more of his brothers. His fists are encased with fire again and he doesn't hesitate to rain punches down on the man as much as he can but then someone is pulling him off and restraining him.

"No!" he shouts struggling to get free. "No, let me go! I need to kill him!"

The man before him cowers and his anger flares because that's not who he is-

A sudden prick on his skin makes his head fuzzy and the world blurs.

"No…" he tries, still futilely reaching for the man with laden limbs. "…has to die… _please_…"

He slumps over someone's arms and Marco's familiar blue orbs gaze down at him before Whiskey appears in his limited vision with another needle. He tries to jerk away to avoid what's coming but his body is unresponsive and within a few seconds, he feels the prick of another needle. Then the world fades to black.

-x-

Marco doesn't wait while Whiskey resituates Ace on a bed. Instead, he turns on the catalyst that started the whole mess.

"What were you doing in here, Teach?" he asks; voice hard and cold.

"Jozu was searching for you, Commander Marco," Teach says as he winces and gets up off the floor.

There are nasty burns on his stomach and all over his body. Ace had been deadly serious when he was trying to kill the man.

"What did you mean by what you said?" he asks instead. Teach's burns could wait for a while.

The man blinks, seemingly confused.

"What I said?" he repeats, and Marco snaps.

"You told Ace you didn't tell anyone. What did you mean by that?"

Teach's expression morphs into one of contrite and fear.

"Commander Ace said that he was going to surprise Commander Thatch that day when Commander Thatch was supposed to get back because he finished his mission early. Then Commander Thatch got stabbed and…" Teach shrugs awkwardly. "What was I suppose to think?"

Marco sighs, rubbing a hand over his face.

"And you didn't tell anyone because…?"

"I couldn't believe it. Commander Ace and Commander Thatch were so close, it just seemed wrong to believe that Commander Ace attacked Commander Thatch," Teach pauses, as if unsure of his own story and Marco frowns. "But then when I came in the room and greeted him, he shot fire at me and tried to get out of bed. That's how he fell."

He sees Whiskey give him a look out of the corner of his eye as she checks Ace over for additional injuries, but she's obviously listening too.

"Then he used Hiken on me and you came and…"

The story trails off as Teach gestures helplessly and Marco sighs. The rest is history.

"Whiskey, can you get someone to treat Teach's burns?"

She nods, moving to the door and gesturing to Teach to follow her.

"Teach," Marco says, before the man leaves. "Meet Pops with me after this. He'll want to hear your story."

Teach frowns but nods. Then Marco is left alone with his own thoughts in the silent room, save for the beeping of machines. Thatch is still asleep; thankfully his bed was in the corner and not involved in the wreckage during the fight. Marco isn't sure how well he would have taken being caught up in such carnage.

He crosses the room to an untouched bed where Ace is laid out. The teen's expression has yet to relax and his condition had obviously worsened during the fight. Marco sighs again, noting the dried blood still on his hands.

"I leave for a few minutes and everything goes to hell," he mutters. "You really do have a way of attracting trouble, don't you, Ace?"

The teen doesn't answer and Marco sighs again. The door clicks open as Whiskey walks in and she meets his gaze with a weary look in her eyes.

"His ribs have been set back by a few more weeks," she says without prompting. "Thankfully no internal bleeding this time, but there's fresh bruising on his left side; he must have slammed against something during the struggle. He is very lucky to not have broken his cast; I don't want to have to reset it and frankly I'm amazed he managed a tackle with that thing on. I'll have to wait for the sedative to wear off before I can check on his vocal chords."

"In other words, he's a mess on top of a mess," Marco sums up, running one hand through his hair.

"That's one way of putting it," Whiskey nods sagely.

Marco keep silent, watching the still knocked out teen.

"Let's go," he says at last. "We need to report to Pops."

-x-

Whitebeard stares at his children, one anxious, the other worried and the third just plain torn between two. Marco had given him a rundown of what had happened in the infirmary, and on his orders, the other thirteen division commanders had been called in to hear the full story as well.

"-and that's what happened," Teach concludes, looking steadily up at Whitebeard.

"Thank you, son," he says, managing a small smile. "I think you ought to take a break for a while, maybe a week or two while those burns heal."

He doesn't outwardly show how he flinches at the word 'burns' because he would never have imagined _Ace_ being the cause of those burns…

"Thanks Pops," Teach says and leaves, the uneasy silence of the commanders following him out the door.

Whitebeard is thankful that his children don't react until the door closes. The first one to break the silence is, unsurprisingly, Haruta.

"… I don't believe it."

No one argues, they're all too stunned and taken aback. She presses this to her advantage, looking around at everyone.

"C'mon guys, Ace may be short tempered but he never attacks us with the intent to kill! Maybe he wasn't aware of his surroundings or he was hallucinating, right? C'mon guys."

Whitebeard closes his eyes against the pleading tone in her voice. Haruta is the closest to Ace after Marco and Thatch, so it makes sense that she would stick up for him. Unfortunately, it cannot be denied that Ace attacked a member of their family.

"He was lucid before that, recognising us by sight," Whiskey cuts in. Her tone is clipped and solemn, a sure sign that she is trying to keep a professional view about it. "However, I cannot deny that he may have been hallucinating. It is a distinct possibility."

"No," Marco says and at that, Whitebeard opens his eyes to look at his oldest son. Marco isn't meeting their gazes but his voice is heavy with solemnity. "He was not hallucinating, yoi. He was very focused on our presence, especially Teach's. It is no mere coincidence that he was aiming to kill Teach."

"But," Jozu spoke up, his brown drawing together in a frown. "That would mean-"  
"No!" Haruta declares angrily and she turns on Marco, rage flashing in her eyes. "Ace wouldn't _do that_! You should know that better than anyone, Marco!"

Before the accusations can start up, he decides to step in.

"Whiskey," he rumbles and his daughter looks at him, a questioning look in her eyes. "He is in your infirmary. What do you recommend should be done?"

"We can't guarantee that he won't attack other members so for the time being, no one is to go into the room except for Marco and me. I don't want any more events like this, his healing time will be extended and I can't say for sure that it won't lead to worse things," she lists out, looking extremely reluctant to mention the next part. "He hasn't attacked me or Marco yet but… for safety's sake, I want to use seastone on him."

Almost all the Devil Fruit users wince. Whitebeard himself is no stranger to seastone; he's been in contact with it more times than he cares to count but he understands Whiskey's need for caution.

"Won't that slow down his recovery?" Rakuyo asks, looking uncertain about her idea.

"Yes," Whiskey sighs. "But it's a risk I'm willing to take."

"Then that's what we will do. Until Ace is healed up, no one is to see him except Whiskey and Marco. Hopefully Thatch will wake up soon to clear this mess," Whitebeard orders, eyes flitting from one commander to the next to convey his seriousness. "Until then, Ace is merely to be monitored."

His children grumble and mutter but nod, acquiescing to his orders.

"Dismissed."

-x-

Cold creeps up his limbs, freezing him and immobilising his movements. He feels empty, like a part of him is missing and he can't figure out why… The feeling is familiar but it brings panic rather than comfort which is why he startles awake, a shout on his lips.

Two things force him back down. The first is a sudden pain that blooms along his side, making him wince; the second is an unexpected wave of weakness that hits and causes him to fall limply back onto the pillow.

"Wha-?" he manages, still unable to completely wake from the drug-induced slumber.

There isn't a reply and it takes a moment for him to realize that the room is empty save for the beeping of machines he'd long since adjusted too and a curtained off area. He struggles to push himself up, not understanding why he feels so weak, to see the room better. It looks... empty. There are missing spaces in the room, like several beds had been taken out and the smell of medicine has an underlying scent of burnt flesh. The odour jolts his memory and he remembers.

The guy from his dreams, with a smile that had several teeth missing and a throaty chuckle that sent shivers crawling up his spine, he had been _here_, standing right in front of him, larger than life and twice as dangerous. He tried to _kill_ him. A snarl curls his lip as he remembered; he failed. Someone, Marco, pulled him away before he could do the deed. Frustration wells up within him. _Why_? Doesn't Marco see that this guy is dangerous?

The sound of the door opening jerks him from his thoughts and he glances up to see Whiskey peering into the room.

"You're awake," she notes and there's an undercurrent of worry in her voice.

"Where is he?" he forces out, eyes narrowing as he tries to peer behind her to see out the door. The words squeeze his throat and he grimaces but forges on. "Where _is he_?"

"Teach? He's gone. Pops sent him to another base for the time being," she says, coming into the room.

He frowns, trying to reconcile the name with the face he remembers and it doesn't _fit_.

"No," he says, shaking his head. "His name isn't Teach."

Whiskey stares and shakes her head helplessly, like she doesn't know how to reply to that.

"It isn't," he insists, sounding like a petulant, if not furious, child.

He knows the name. The man had introduced himself to him in his dreams. Not as Teach, that name faintly reminds him of laughter and grins but another name…

"Ace, listen, it doesn't matter right now, okay? I just need to look you over again. You caused quite a bit of damage to yourself, the last I checked, and I need to see if it's healing well."

Whiskey's worry is hidden beneath a façade of calmness that would rival Marco's but he sees it still which is why he reluctantly lets her. The faster he heals, the faster he can hunt down that-

Everything halts as he realises something. _That man_ was here. That man walked into this room without resistance and _Marco_ protected him and- Were they friends? What if they were all in on it? Something about that thought doesn't fit right but it pales in importance compared to the fact that _that man knows where he is_. He is in danger.

"Ace? I need you to calm down-" Whiskey is saying, an obvious frown growing on her face but he doesn't care; he needs to leave _now_…

There's an all too recognizable sensation on his skin; that is the prick of a needle; and Whiskey's voice is wavering but he catches the words anyway.

"Sorry, you were starting to hyperventilate and…"

Her voice fades away and he only sees her blurred figure, feels her fingers on his skin before his eyes close against his will and he's dragged under again.

-x-

Marco groans as rubs his temples, staring at the amount of paperwork _still_ on his desk.

It's amazing really, the amount of paperwork he demolishes but instead of decreasing, his workload seemingly manages to do the opposite. He knows why, really, he does. What with the second and fourth division commanders out of commission, _someone_ has to handle their work too.

Izo has thankfully taken Thatch's division's workload in hand without offering in the first place, which is good because it means he's finally moving past the improbability and settling his differences with reality. Thank goodness because a snippy Izo resulted in a lot of tempers flaring. One of the bad things about knowing all your brothers' pressure points meant that you could cause arguments to flare any time you liked.

Haruta on the other hand… Marco sighs this time, considering the official youngest in terms of age among the commanders. Haruta was not taking the thought of Ace _betraying_ them well at all. If Marco was honest, even he couldn't believe it. Actually, he didn't. He trusted Ace but he also knew that this was the Grand Line, weirdness was normalcy. It could be a Devil Fruit, he muses, with a last glare at the papers on his table and deeming it impossible to continue work any longer. He needed a break anyway.

He'd heard of a Devil Fruit user who could force others to obey his whim and fancy… but what would be the motive of ordering Ace to kill Thatch? It would explain why Ace was so injured though. He would've gotten those wounds either trying to defend Thatch or himself… but the marks around his throat indicated someone had tried to shut him up. Then why not just kill him outright? He groans frustratedly, tipping his chair back to glower at the ceiling. Things aren't making sense at all.

For a second, he just stares at the ceiling before deciding to pay a visit to his father. He knows Whitebeard won't be asleep just yet, there's far too many things going on and he knows he's just as worried as Marco is.

The light from the crack under the door proves him right and he pushes open the door without pomp and ceremony. Whitebeard is at his desk, a loose sheaf of papers scattered on the table but he looks up to meet his eldest son's gaze anyway.

"Marco," he rumbles, pushing himself away from the desk. "Can't sleep?"

"Reports," is his short answer as he settles in a chair.

Whitebeard chuckles and turns to face him fully. "How about a drink?"

He's already reaching for the bottom drawer of his desk where he keeps some glasses and a bottle of whisky before Marco even replies. Whitebeard knows him all too well.

They sit in silence, both equally lost in thoughts, at least until Whitebeard speaks up.

"Still thinking about Ace and Thatch?"

Marco slides his gaze over to a knowing look and groans.

"It just doesn't make sense."

"Then we're probably missing some vital pieces of information. Isn't Izo looking into things?"

"Yeah, at least he's pouring all that energy into something other than fuming."

Whitebeard nods, understanding. No one escapes Izo when he's in a mood. The best thing to do would either be to occupy him with something or stay out of his way until he cooled down.

"Maybe we should assign something to Haruta too," he suggests, knowing that the official youngest has been moping about.

Before Marco can reply, alarms go off. Almost instantly, they're both on their feet and rushing to the central command centre.

The alarms have been silenced by the time they get there and Marco's heart sinks when he sees Whiskey standing in front of the monitors, anxiously scanning the screens.

"Whiskey," Whitebeard says and she whirls around looking panicked.

"Pops, he's gone!" she exclaims, anger and worry colouring her voice. "The sedative should have kept him under for at least an hour more but he slipped out when we weren't looking and now he's gone!"

Marco thinks he knows who she's talking about but he needs confirmation anyway.

"Who's gone, Whiskey?" he asks sharply.

"Ace!"

"That idiot…" Marco seethes. "Mobilize the second division _now_. We've got a commander to search for."

* * *

**NOTES: Cliffhanger! Sorry, guys. Hope you enjoyed it so far, I'm hoping to post the next chapter by... this year. Hopefully. Urgh, I'm unreliable, I'm so sorry...**

**TO anyone waiting for Abandoned... I have something in the works. Hopefully it'll see the light of day.**

**So, until next time, I guess?**


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